And then the crying started. I was a blubbering wreck. And Sophie had sat on the couch with me and let me warble on and on about this other chick I had a hard-on for.

Yet somehow, we ended up having sex. Don’t expect me to explain how that had happened. One minute I was snotting all over her about Gracie and the next I had my cock inside her.

All I did know was that for those few moments it took to blow my load—and it didn’t take long unfortunately—thank you, whiskey dick—I wasn’t thinking about Gracie and my pathetic, broken heart.

I liked Sophie. I was attracted to her. And I definitely liked that I was able to get it up for someone that wasn’t Gracie. It made me feel like I wasn’t totally ruined.

But the next morning had been extremely awkward. I had mumbled apologies and Sophie had been obviously embarrassed by it all.

“I’m sorry. About last night,” I had told her, not really wanting to look her in the eye. I was a certified ass. I had totally rebounded on this very sweet, very attractive woman. She deserved better than that.

Sophie had taken my hand and given me a genuine smile. I liked her smile. It didn’t hide shit. It was open and honest. I could do with a lot more of that in my life.

“Don’t be. I’ve wanted to be with you for years,” she admitted shyly.

“Huh?” I had asked lamely.

Sophie had giggled and I pushed the hair out of her face. It was nice touching her. It wasn’t compulsive, like if I didn’t touch her I’d die, but it felt warm and comforting.

“I’ve always liked you, Mitch.”

I had felt like even more of a jerk.

“Look, Sophie, I’m not sure what you’re looking for from me, but I’m in love with someone else.” I had to be truthful with her. I wouldn’t lead her on. I knew how devastating that was and I wouldn’t do that to someone else.

“I sort of picked up on that,” she had said wryly. “I just know I don’t want this to be a one-night thing.”

And something about her words had hit me right in the gut.

I don’t want this to be a one-night thing.

One night.

That’s all I had had with Gracie.

I had wanted so much more than that.

But it hadn’t happened. And I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wallowing over a woman who didn’t want me. Life was too damn short.

So I had leaned over and kissed Sophie. There were no butterflies. No erratic heartbeat. No sweaty palms. I didn’t tremble when I touched her. I didn’t devour her mouth and want to consume her.

Sophie wasn’t Gracie.

And right then that’s exactly what I needed.

So Sophie and I had sex again. Which led to more sex. Which led into casual dating. Which led into something more serious. Maybe we moved a little fast after everything that had happened with she-who-shall-not-be-named.

I knew that my buddies didn’t entirely approve. Because of course they knew what happened. Once Cole figured it out he quickly shared the news with Garrett and Jordan. They gossiped more than a bunch of pre-teen girls.

“Dude, it’s not really fair to Sophie,” Jordan had lectured a week or so after I had started dating Sophie.

“She knows about…yeah, she knows okay. I’ve been upfront with her,” I argued, not wanting to talk about my fucking love life.

“What about Gracie?” he had asked.

“What about her?” I had demanded angrily. Just her name sent me into a tailspin. I didn’t want to hear about her. I didn’t want to talk about her. Honestly, I just wanted to try to live my life like she had never been in it.

“You love her. That’s what. So how the hell can you commit to Sophie when you love someone else? It’s not right, man.” I hadn’t been in the mood for Jordan’s tough love.

So I had lost it a little bit. I slammed my fist into the wall, bloodying my knuckles. I cradled my hand to my chest and glared at my friend. “Let’s not forget how you and Maysie started out, buddy,” I spat out.

Jordan had looked taken aback. “Yeah, I get that—”

My hand was throbbing and I had hoped I hadn’t broken something. That would not be good given we were in the middle of a tour. “You cheated on your girlfriend of three years with Maysie. You are the king of sordid relationships. So don’t stand there on your fucking soapbox and tell me how to handle things. I know what I’m doing. Sophie and I are on the same damn page. And G…” I trailed off. I couldn’t say her name. Shit. Maybe Jordan was right.

No! He wasn’t. I just needed to move on and Sophie wanted to help me do that. And I cared about Sophie. That was a good start.

Right?

“I like Sophie. We’re together. That’s it. There’s nothing else to it. So just keep your holier than thou opinions to yourself,” I had growled in his face before storming off.

I hadn’t broken my knuckle thankfully and after I had simmered down I felt like a fool for going off on Jordan like that. We both apologized later, but Gracie and our one-night stand was never mentioned again.

Sophie never brought her up either.

Gracie became the dirty word never uttered. Which made it hard when said dirty word was friends with all of my friends.

At first seeing Gracie had been like torture. Silent, horrible torture. Because on the outside I never let on that I was a miserable, fucking mess inside.

To everyone else I was just Mitch. Maybe a little colder than normal, but the same I had always been. But I made sure to never be alone with Gracie. I purposefully avoided eye contact. And I sure as shit never got close. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I could smell her. If I was close enough to see the mole on the side of her neck, I’d lose my damn mind.

But Sophie never left my side. She was my savior. She kept my mind off the person who had hurt me the most. I was lucky to have her.

She helped me move on.

And I had moved on.

Or so I thought.

But there were times when my newly erected armor had some serious chinks. And just hearing her name and knowing that I’d see her, left me with a feeling that I tried to suppress.

Gracie Cook made me feel out of control. She made me wild and crazy.

She was the drug I could never get enough of.

And going cold turkey had been the only way to survive her.

I realized I had balled my hands into fists and I forced them to relax.

“Yeah, she sounded pretty good. I was getting worried when we hadn’t seen her for so long,” Garrett was going on. My mouth went dry and I tried to swallow.

Why would they be worried about her? Had something happened?

It didn’t matter. Gracie had issues. A lot of them. I had tried to help her, to be there for her, and she had shit all over me.

But if something was going on with her—

It doesn’t matter!

She had Viv and Maysie. She had her parents.

Who treated her like crap. Remember how she cried in your arms as she told you about how cold and horrible they were. What if she was drinking again? Maybe she needs me…

I had to stop thinking about this stuff.

I slammed the top of my case down and quickly closed the clasps.

“I’m heading out,” I said a little too loudly as I got to my feet.

Garrett looked at me and nodded. I refused to meet his eyes. The fucker saw too much as it was.

“You ready to go?” I asked Sophie, who was still sitting quietly on the edge of the stage. She nodded and scrambled to her feet.

I picked up my bass and started to head off the stage.

“Are you guys going to be around before the show on Friday? We thought once the girls were in town we could all go out and get something to eat,” Cole said.

I gripped Sophie’s hand tightly. “I doubt we’ll be around,” I responded coolly.

I noticed the look that passed between Cole, Jordan, and Garrett. It was obvious I was a topic of discussion when I wasn’t around.

“Well, if you change your mind, let us know,” Jordan added.